Keep On Smiling
by spy03
Summary: Harley Quinn is beginning to doubt whether The Joker actually cares for her or not, and recieves more proof than she expected.


**Keep On Smiling  
**

**I do not own Batman, but if I did there would be a lot more JokerxHarley**

* * *

I sighed and slumped over against the wall outside of Mista J's room, recalling the events that had happened today. He… he left me, he left me alone to the stupid batman; it was a wonder I could escape capture and make it back here almost unscathed, save for a few cuts and bruises. I can't believe him. My PUDDIN used me as a simple distraction so he could run off, howling with laughter of course, into the night without even looking back to see if I was ok. I think he apologized, but now that I think about it: a low grunt and being shoved away doesn't exactly fit the definition of 'sorry'.

Puddin does love me…

Right?

Despite the continuous beatings, slaps, and derogatory terms he called me he really did care. But recently- I got the feeling that he actually didn't. Every mad scheme I tried to help him with, every insane plan, it ends with me getting hurt. It's never batman who does it- it was always him. Puddin was the one who always did it in the end. He's tossed me out a window for crying out loud! I tried to keep my mind off the subject for now, and turned my focus to the city outside the window. I shivered.

Although we were safe in our warehouse- almost like our little fortress- I can't help but feel that Batman's still… watching somewhere. But we were hidden, he didn't know about this place.

I felt uncomfortable being in the hallway with all the windows around.

"Puddin?" I cracked open the door by a hair and looked inside the dimly lit room. He sat in the middle of the pile of papers, scribbling away furiously at his desk before balling up yet another plan and tossing the sheet onto the ground. Dozens of blueprints and drawings were scattered across the floor, some taped to the walls next to defaced photos of the commissioner and a few other policemen. Each of the photographs bore a little smile carefully drawn in pen by the Joker himself, how he would make them all smile. Oh how much puddin would love to see that…

I scowled.

He probably cared more about them than me didn't he?

"Puddin..?" I stepped into the room, carefully maneuvering around the sketches strewn all over the room. I had made it about one fourth of the way in, but decided to stop there. Who knows what kind of dangerous things were scattered in that pile. I decided to try again. This time a bit louder perhaps…

"Puddin.", I crossed my arms. He didn't even look up, did he notice me? I coughed, and waited for a response… nothing. Why wasn't he paying any attention to me? It seemed to confirm my earlier suspicions. He was ignoring me wasn't he- the hell with him!

I turned on my heels and began to march out, practically bristling with frustration. That's it! If he didn't care about me, there was no point in me being here in this mad world with him! I should just go right now. Start a new life without madness, without the Joker. I had nearly made it to the door before he had spoken.

"Is it because you know you're not going to get laid?"

"Excuse me?" I questioned.

"You're leaving… so is it because you know you're not going to get laid?" he continued in his ever smooth calm tone he used when he was angry with me; the calm before a storm. However I was too mad to notice the way he spoke to me.

"No- It's just because you're a narcissistic jerk who only cares about himself!" I snapped.

"Harley. I know that I'm right, aren't I?" He stood, smiling, and began to slowly pace towards me.

"Even if that was the reason…" I paused trying to come up with something "I know you aren't man enough to even try to get in my pants" I gasped and covered my mouth realizing what I had said. Oh god, it all of that had just slipped out!

His smile immediately dissipated to be replaced by a horrifying scowl, his eyes full of pure hatred. He crept closer, his fists clenched while he tried to plaster a fake grin onto his face again. I felt my back hit the wall. I was cornered. I was dead! I was dead for sure.

Then he grinned again. His figure relaxed and he seemed to take a step back.

"Harley." He whispered.

"Mista J, im s-so sorry… I didnt"

"UNGRATEFULL LITTLE-"

I felt his hand come down as he delivered a sharp slap to my face, splitting the already damaged flesh open. He hit again…hard. He had done this many times before, although now I saw it in a different light. This wasn't love. This was torture. His fist came down again and again, the world becoming a great blur of pain, all of the hits mixing together in my mind until I lost count of how many it had been or for how long it had been going on. I begged for death, but would not receive it.

The floor was wet with my blood and tears, my emotion escaping through sobs wracking my body. He seemed satisfied enough, as he began to happily smile again, and stepped back to admire his handiwork. He circled around me and chuckled every now and then whenever I would gasp for air out of my cries.

"So you were disappointed in my lack of love for you?" he feinted a pout, "Harley, I'm crushed… although I hardly know why you would expect better of me." He cackled manically, but then suddenly stopped and brought himself to eye level with me.

"Although…" he seemed to contemplate over something within himself.

He shoved me against the wall with tremendous force, but to my surprise be began to kiss me. It was violent and passionate, and wonderful at the same time. Tearing back my mask, he ran his bloodied fingers through my hair. Finally, he pulled away allowing a slightly broken sigh of pleasure escape my lips. His crimson eyes lit up with delight. Leaning backwards, he teasingly tossed his coat to the side and began to strip form his clothes, slowly tugging at the tips of his gloves with his teeth before discarding them as well.

His actions snapped me out of it. Puddin really did love me, our relationship was going somewhere! This was real.

Two shadows slunk their way across the dark corridors of the warehouse, both chatting to each other about their day, before finally bringing up the subject of why they were here. Penguin had called, requesting a meeting with the Joker to discuss "business"... it was their job to let him know about it. However, both henchmen were hesitant to barge into the makeshift office at the moment, simply staring at the doorknob before one finally spoke again.

"Y'think he's in there?"the goon questioned to the next. He looked at the door timidly before continuing his question. "Should we go in?"

The second stood crossing his arms listening to the euphoric noises coming from the room, before sighing and shaking his head. "Nah- we'd probably be in big trouble with the boss if we interrupt him and his girl", he chuckled.

"We can tell him tomorrow."

"Agreed."


End file.
